Chapter 4 - Blood in the Water.The tension in the boardroom was thick enough to slice with a knife.
Andrew stared at the laser sights painted on his chest, completely paralyzed.
"You can't do this, Mariana," Andrew pleaded, his voice cracking.
"This is illegal, I will call the police, I will have you arrested!" he threatened weakly.
I waved my hand, and the guards lowered their weapons.
"Call them," I challenged him, tossing a cell phone across the table.
Andrew hesitated, his eyes darting around the room looking for support from his board.
Every single executive looked away, utterly terrified of the armed men surrounding me.
"You built this company on my secret capital, Andrew," I explained calmly.
"I fabricated your success to protect your fragile, pathetic ego."
Andrew clenched his fists, his face turning purple with rage.
"You lied to me for four years!" he shouted, trying to play the victim.
"You slapped me across the face in front of your mistress," I countered coldly.
The board members gasped, finally realizing the personal nature of this corporate slaughter.
I signaled to Victor, who handed me a sealed manila envelope.
"This envelope contains the termination papers for every person in this room," I announced.
The executives erupted into panicked protests, begging for their jobs.
"Unless," I added, raising my hand for silence.
The room instantly quieted down.
"Unless you all vote to officially remove Andrew Whitmore as CEO, right here, right now," I proposed.
Andrew looked at his friends, the men he had golfed and drank with for a decade.
"You wouldn't dare," Andrew warned them.
Richard, the senior vice president, didn't even hesitate.
"I vote to remove Andrew Whitmore," Richard declared loudly.
One by one, every single man at the table raised their hand.
Andrew staggered backward, clutching his chest as if he had been physically stabbed.
"You traitors," Andrew hissed.
"Guards, escort Mr. Whitmore off my property," I commanded.
The security contractors grabbed Andrew by the arms, dragging him toward the elevator.
He kicked and screamed, completely abandoning his sophisticated persona.
I watched the elevator doors close on his humiliated face.
But I knew a man like Andrew would not just walk away.
He was desperate, cornered, and deeply embedded with the city's corrupt elite.
Ten minutes later, my encrypted phone rang.
It was an unknown number routing through a dark-web proxy server.
I answered the call and pressed the phone to my ear.
"You should have just filed for divorce, Mariana," a distorted, mechanical voice whispered.
"Andrew just put a five-million-dollar bounty on your head," the voice warned.
A chill ran down my spine, but my resolve did not waver.
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The Hollywood thriller I had stepped into was about to get bloody.
"Let them come," I told the mysterious caller before hanging up.
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